


Possédé

by writeranthea



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Light Bondage, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeranthea/pseuds/writeranthea
Summary: Zlatan unconsciously straightened his back when he heard Leo entering the kitchen behind him and moving on to the sink, putting the glasses into it and taking the plate from where he had placed them on the countertop, “D-Do you want to leave after this?”
Relationships: Zlatan Ibrahimović/Lionel Messi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Possédé

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse as for why I wrote this. I don't. Maybe it's just been too long since I wrote a good ol' pwp story. It's also wrapped in a very very thin blanket of plot. Why? I have no idea, this is self-indulgent and an attempt to beat that writer's block of mine regarding _Perfect Paradise_ more than anything :-D
> 
> For the sake of the plot: Zlatan's still playing for PSG; the title and inspiration for this were taken from [Djadja & Dinaz's "Possédé"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39y8RWATD04).
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> A/N: I posted this story on AO3. If you see it on any other website or platform, please consider that I did not consent to it.

When Zlatan had called Leo before he had left the hotel, the Argentine had told him that he’d be the only visitor, though he still sighed in relief after he had steered his rental car onto the driveway of Leo’s house and saw that there indeed wasn’t another car parked outside. Zlatan didn’t even have a particular reason as for why he should’ve been relieved; he always loved to meet up with the friends he had made during his time in Barcelona, though if someone would’ve asked him, he would’ve needed to admit that he wanted to feel, and maybe even be a bit special because Leo had invited him for dinner.

For a change, he hadn’t been in the position to invite himself over and that the invitation had come from _Leo_ had only put a cherry on top.

It wasn’t widely known, but the younger man and him kept their friendship upright, despite his transfers, the drama that surrounded their clubs and even the distance between them wasn’t all too obvious until it came to making plans to see each other in person. Zlatan was excited to meet Leo. He hadn’t seen him in quite some time, well over a year - a year in which a lot had happened. Leo had come out as gay by making his relationship with Luis public, the two of them had gotten engaged a couple of weeks after that, and Zlatan all too clearly remembered the absolute hell that had broken free when a paparazzo had caught Luis in flagranti with a random face and how Suárez even had the audacity to try and claim that the photos had merely been misleading, as _misleading_ as his hand down the other man’s jeans and them kissing only could’ve been.

Zlatan swerved the Ferrari onto one of the marked parking spots, and instead of getting out right away, allowed himself to take a moment to collect his thoughts and get a bit grounded. Leo might’ve invited him to his place for dinner, but it wasn’t a date. Truth be told, Zlatan hadn’t even started to think of it a as a date until a few days before he had been due to fly out to Barcelona and ever since then, that thought refused to retreat its claws and leave him alone. It wasn’t a date but God be damned, he wouldn’t have had a problem if it _would_ be one.

The suit he was wearing was a new one. He had bought it just for that evening though had the suit jacket balled up in the passenger’s seat, as he didn’t want to end up making Leo uncomfortable by showing up as if he had been about to attend an official ceremony. He had pondered about whether or not he should buy Leo flowers, but had instead gone with getting Leo a box of his favourite dulce de leche brownies with the hope that it would be less bold... because it wasn’t a date. It was a simple agreement of having dinner together between people who have been friends for almost twelve years, but it wasn’t a date.

Muttering a string of curses under his breath, Zlatan ran both of his hands over his face and kept his eyes closed as he blindly fixed the bun he had gathered his hair into. It had been great enough of a surprise, not really a shock, for him to have to admit it to himself that he was attracted to his long-time friend, to _Leo_ , in a way that one shouldn’t ever be attracted to a friend, though what had made the change in his thinking all too obvious to him was that he had since started to look at Leo differently than he had done it for a decade. As he was sitting there in the car on Leo’s driveway, he was eager to have that cute little smile directed at him again, to see Leo blush and maybe get a look or two at the younger man’s _magnificent_ backside when Leo would bend down to pick something up from the ground.

That he would give a lot to have Leo bend over for him in an entirely different context, Zlatan vehemently tried to push away into the farthest corner of his mind.

He might not have looked like it, but he was already a mess and he hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. Taking the box of brownies and leaving the his suit jacket balled up in the passenger’s seat, he gave himself a mental push and opened the driver’s door of the Ferrari, squaring his shoulders and straightening his back after he had locked the car. Keeping himself in check to not make Leo uncomfortable and thus possibly ruin their friendship was something that he’d be able to; it just didn’t make him feel good and what did scare him was the possibility that Leo could be out to talk to him about any new love interest of his. He had no idea how he should react to those news. Clearing his throat, Zlatan walked the short path up the driveway to the front door and the smile that grew on his face as he brought up a hand and rung the doorbell never could’ve been forced. He _was_ excited to see Leo.

The front door was opened rather zestfully and an inexplicable warmth filled out Zlatan’s chest when Leo came into sight because even though the Argentine changed a lot over the years, as they all did, he was still so familiar to him, “Zlatan, hey.”

“I hope I’m not too late?” The younger man laughed, shook his head and stepped aside to open the door wider and allow Zlatan to enter, who couldn’t help himself but look back at Leo from over his shoulder after he had moved past him because good God, he looked so good. Even though he too was over thirty, his shaved face still gave him a boyish look and the dark jeans he paired with a simple yet elegant shirt hugged his body like a second skin in all of the right places and Zlatan only just so resisted the urge to smack his forehead. It had to be his luck, because he was sure that 95% of the time they had hung out together, Leo had been dressed in sweatpants and a Barça hoodie.

“Dinner isn’t ready yet,” Leo said with a laugh, standing by while Zlatan took of his shoes and put his car keys onto a nearby side table, “so you’re not late, no.”

Zlatan laughed as well, “That’s a relief then,” and changed the hold he had on the box of baked treats to hand them over to his friend. “Here, I got them for you. I thought that you might like them.” He remembered that the brownies had been Leo’s favourites back in 2009 and how they the two of them had sneaked away from one of Gerard’s parties because Leo had been craving said brownies, however Zlatan didn’t really want Leo to know that he kept that information saved for all those years.

Having spend more than an hour walking around and getting lost in the old town of Barcelona to find the bakery turned out to have been worth it when he was able to watch how Leo’s eyes widened as the younger man carefully opened the brown carton box and how the faintest of blushes rose into his face. “They’re my favourites,” Leo whispered with a quavering voice. Zlatan could’ve sworn that both his heart and his cock showed interest at the utterly adorable smile Leo rewarded him with, “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it,” he made a waving gesture with his hand, “I thought that I shouldn’t just show up with empty hands.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been mad and kicked you out even if you would’ve shown up like that.”

Leo giggled, he fucking _giggled_ and the older man pushed his hands deep into the front pockets of his dress pants when he felt the need to reach out and brush back the strand of hair that had fallen onto Leo’s forehead as he had laughed. “I know you wouldn’t do that,” Zlatan drawled out in an attempt to come across as casual, clearing his throat and mustering a lopsided smile, “but still.”

The other man hummed, “I already made dessert, but two dessert choices are always better than one and my Tiramisu definitely can’t be topped by these,” and held up the box to smile at Zlatan for a moment longer before he turned and marched back into the kitchen, saying something about having to check on the food.

As he had not been asked to follow, Zlatan merely sauntered after Leo, eventually coming to stand leaned against the frame of the kitchen door to watch the younger man taking care of the few pots that were on the stove and looking in his element just as much as he did on the pitch. “Is there anything that you want me to do?” He asked after having watched the younger man move around for a good minute or so and he both blessed and cursed the fact that Leo had his back turned towards him, as that made it pretty much impossible for Zlatan to _not_ let his eyes wander down to the swell of Leo’s ass whenever if felt safe enough to do.

The Argentine laughed, that same sweet and cheerful laugh that he only ever let out in private, and didn’t turn around as he answered, “Oh no of course not, you’re my guest!”

Zlatan’s smile widened at Leo’s laugh and he pushed himself off the door frame into a more upright position, somehow not feeling as out of place as he most definitely would’ve felt it it would’ve been anyone else he’d be watching cook. He mentally prepared himself for a good long while of silence between them, though it couldn’t have been more than two minutes later that Leo let out a satisfied sound and stated that the pasta was done and he took it onto himself to get the drinks out of the fridge, stepping into the younger man’s way as Leo tried to get to the fridge to get his point across. “Come on Leo, let me do something,” he argued, cutting Leo off when the other tried to tell him that it wasn’t necessary and he smiled to himself as he spotted the few cans of Vanilla Coke Leo must’ve bought for him. Zlatan knew for a fact that the younger man never liked it.

“The, uhm, the Coke is for you,” came from behind him, only confirming what he had already suspected, and Zlatan made sure that his smile was a wide one as he turned around to face Leo.

“Thank you.” 

Rather than turning back around, he stopped and watched how the younger man picked up the plate he had prepared to carry them to the dining room and he stood frozen to the spot while he watched him go, unfazed by the beeping sound the fridge made once he left the double-winged door open for too long.

He eventually grabbed one of the cooled cans and a water carafe out of the compartment and closed the fridge, scolding himself for behaving so awkwardly before he set out to follow after Leo. As he had expected, a lot had changed in the house since he had last been there for a visit. The vast majority of the photos which had been decorating the walls had been gone or replaced, as they had either included Luis or had shown Leo and Luis together, the couch he caught a glimpse of as he walked past the living room definitely was a new one and the Argentine had even replaced the curtains and rugs. It was as if Leo had successfully removed every trace of Luis’ presence from the house and Zlatan didn’t even try to stop his smile from growing wider at the realisation. If it gave him better chances for his own intention? He couldn’t tell it at that point, but as he yet had to spot a framed photo of Leo with someone who could’ve counted as his new boyfriend... “You changed a lot,” he commented before he could’ve thought about whether it was a good idea or not, “around the house, I mean.”

“Hm?” The younger man made a confused sound, but blushed a bit and continued, “Oh yeah right, I did,” he laughed, “I forgot that you haven’t been here in a while, Geri helped me with getting everything done,” and put the plates down onto the table prior to slipping into his chair. Zlatan didn’t miss how Leo flushed to a darker shade and pressed his lips together for a second; it made him want to kiss him, to just gather him in his arms, pull him onto his lap and kiss him, but of course he kept quiet about what he wanted and merely claimed the seat opposite of Leo’s instead, opening the can of Coke to pour the drink into his glass. There was a moment of silence between them which only came to an end when Leo spoke up again. “It felt like the right thing to do, you know,” he said, darting his gaze back and forth between Zlatan’s face and the plate of pasta on the table in front of him, “I got rid of him for good.”

Hearing Leo say that probably shouldn’t have made his heart somersault in the way that it eventually did and Zlatan found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the younger man as he brought the glass to his lips to take a rather restorative sip from the cooled drink and in hindsight, he would know that he didn’t just imagine the slight shift in the atmosphere. “For good?” he asked, his voice coming out a lot deeper and rougher than he had wanted it to and he didn’t look away even after Leo nodded, the younger man then no longer meeting his gaze. His blush still didn’t disappear.

Leo cleared his throat, and to someone who might not have known that Argentine as long or as well as Zlatan did, his smile might’ve come across as sincere and not strained in the slightest, “Yeah, for good. Definitely. You know how many times he messed up even before he decided to cheat on me.”

It wasn’t a lie. Zlatan knew, and not only from Leo. He had never bothered to keep count on how many times he had listened to voice messages of Gerard ranting about how Luis wasn’t good enough for Leo and how he had wished that Leo would just start seeing that he could easily score so much higher than the person Luis Suárez was. “I know,” he acknowledged after a short pause during which he had failed to pull himself out of his thoughts.

When Leo nonchalantly tried to change the topic, it didn’t really come as a surprise, “I hope you’ll like it.” The younger man cleared his throat once again, “It’s a new recipe I found online, I thought I could try it for tonight.”

Zlatan was more than eager to find out whether Luis attempted to reconciliate or if there happened to be anyone who was interested in getting close to Leo - anyone other than himself - he didn’t voice any of his questions out. “It sure smells good,” was all he said instead, taking another sip from the Coke before he set his glass aside and picked up the cutlery Leo had laid out with diligence, smiling at the younger man.

A heavy silence came to hover over their heads after than and even though Zlatan absolutely hated it, he didn’t quite have it in him to try and force a conversation when he so clearly knew that forcing Leo to speak would only result in him making the other uncomfortable, and that was the very last thing he wanted to reach that evening. They had eaten in silence for a while when Zlatan accidentally bumped his leg against Leo’s and while the touch didn’t last for longer than the split of a second, it turned out to be enough to get Leo to speak again, so as if he was reminded that Zlatan was there with him in person. “How’s Paris?” he asked. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile and the older man felt his heart soar all over again.

God, he was more lost than he initially thought he was. “You know we’re always good,” Zlatan snorted, his question of how Barça was doing in return eliciting a laugh from Leo.

“Well... I mean we’ve seen better times,” the Argentine admitted with a lopsided smile, “but we’ve also seen worse and we’re currently second in La Liga _and_ the Blancos aren’t first so we’re not doing too bad I think.”

“I don’t think so either.”

Leo only hummed and resumed eating, which Zlatan was okay with up to the point where a drop of sauce dribbled down Leo’s chin and the younger man caught it with his thumb to lick it off. He hated the way that his mind immediately wandered off to where he could see himself replacing Leo’s thumb with his own or Leo closing his lips around the tip of his cock that was all to eager to make its presence known by pressing against the fly of his tousers. _Fuck_. The latter was a mental image that had the potential of keeping him up for more than just one night and it was all only made worse when Leo, purely coincidentally, or so Zlatan thought, looked him right in the eyes as he pulled his thumb free with an almost obscene _plop_. The two of them looked at each other for a couple of seconds before Leo broke the spell and faked a cough, refilling his glass with water from the carafe. Zlatan knew that he was staring at Leo like a deer caught in headlights, he failed to snap out of it right away.

 _Was he imagining it or...?_ When he continued to stare at the younger man, who had since resumed eating his pasta, Leo’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red and he seemed rather focused on rolling the spaghetti onto his fork. Zlatan dropped his left hand into his lap to arrange the throbbing strain in his trousers as inconspicuously as he could’ve done it; at any other moment he would’ve been terribly embarrassed of the mess he was, but as he was sitting there at Leo’s dining table, he was _desperate_ more than anything. Desperate to know whether Leo was really sending him signals or if he was imagining it, to find out whether he had a chance becase God knew that he’d be ready to fight for a chance if Leo would allow him to.

The air between them became thick with tension after that, loaded with something that Zlatan failed to put a finger upon but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been before, rather just waiting for something to happen in order to relieve it, and it stayed like that even when the Argentine stood up and stated that he would take care of the dishes now. “I’ll help,” Zlatan said in a way that didn’t really left any space for Leo to try and argue that his help wasn’t needed, taking both of their plates to march to the kitchen without waiting for a possible reply from the younger man. If he wouldn’t have needed the chance to take a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, he wouldn’t have walked off like that. His cock might’ve been urging him to hurry things up and move the two of them to the bedroom, but his mind was screaming at him that the risk of ruining the entire thing before it would even properly begin was too high.

He unconsciously straightened his spine when he heard Leo entering the kitchen behind him and moving on to the sink, putting the glasses into it and taking the plate from where Zlatan had absentmindedly placed them on the countertop, “D-Do you want to leave after this?”

The older man caught the slight stutter in Leo’s voice despite the fact that the tap was, once more purely coincidentally, turned on at the same time Leo spoke up and he frowned, doubting that he seriously thought that he had flown from Paris to Barcelona to spend no more than an hour with him. Zlatan took a step into Leo’s direction, still leaving more than enough space between them, “Do you _want_ me to leave?”

He watched the younger man closely, so as if keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Leo’s head would eventually give him all the answers he so desperately wanted, and while he didn’t get a look at Leo’s face, the way the tips of his ears were burning bright red told him all about how Leo was blushing in that moment. Zlatan’s pulse sped up when the Argentine merely continued to rinse the dishes and he moved another step closer, waiting for Leo to flinch and ask him what he thought he was doing. When that didn’t happen, he took one final step until he was properly in Leo’s space. “Do you want me to leave, Leo?” he repeated with a lower voice, only barely resisting the temptation of putting his hands onto Leo’s waist.

“No,” Leo’s answer came soon after that and even though his voice wasn’t raised much above a whisper, it seemed to resound loudly in the kitchen, “I-I don’t want you to leave.”

Zlatan didn’t back away while the younger man tend to the dishes and stacked them up on the drying rack, and it wasn’t after Leo had shut off the tap that Zlatan allowed himself to give in to what every fibre of his body was screaming for him to do: he reached out and settled his hands on the younger man’s waist, basking at the way that his hands apparently had been made for it and gently forcing Leo to turn around. Leo’s face was as flushed as he had expected it to be and he gave Leo’s waist a gentle squeeze when the other refused to look up at him. “Then I’m staying,” he murmured. Zlatan halfheartedly expected Leo to wriggle out of the hold as it wasn’t strong in the slightest, but he stayed almost perfectly still except for his hands, which were fidgeting with the dishcloth he had blindly grabbed from the countertop as he looked at a spot on Zlatan’s chest.

It was then that the rational part of Zlatan’s brain stopped working; without taking a moment to ponder whether what he was doing was too much, he wrapped an arm around Leo’s slim waist and easily lifted the smaller man onto the countertop he had him crowded against. Leo let out a strangled gasp but parted his legs for Zlatan to be able to stand in between them, not putting up a struggle, and the older man’s hands found their way to Leo’s face, cupping it and using their hold to tilt Leo’s head back until there was nowhere else for him to look than up at Zlatan. He didn’t try to explain himself before he leaned down and placed a kiss onto the lips he had spend too much time thinking about, gently prodding with his tongue to ask for entrance that he was granted as soon as Leo snapped out of his apparent shock. That the younger man hadn’t expected the kiss was more than obvious.

Zlatan commented that permission with an appreciating hum, keeping one hand cupped against the side of Leo’s clean-shaven face and moving the other back down to Leo’s waist. He kept it there, even though the swell of Leo’s ass was so near and he was downright yearning to touch it, knowing that he already got lucky enough and that pushing his luck any further probably wouldn’t result in anything good. They were both out of breath when they parted, though they barely stayed apart long enough for them to catch their breaths before Zlatan set out to kiss Leo with more vigour, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the way that the younger man just parted his lips and let him set the pace. Leo’s hands dared to move a few moments later, wandering from where they were resting on Zlatan’s muscular forearms up until they found purchase in the back of the other man’s neck. The feeling of Leo clutching onto him like that had spurred him on more than he thought it could, and it was Leo who broke the kiss as he gasped and whimpered when Zlatan’s hand splayed itself out over his ass, “Zlatan-”

“We should probably talk about this first, hm?” At the younger man’s nod, Zlatan lowered his head and placed a trail of kisses down the side of Leo’s neck, starting at the sensitive spot right below his ear and not pulling back until he perceived another whimper. God, Leo already sounded so much sweeter than Zlatan imagined he would. “So let’s talk then, baby.” He might’ve sounded a bit hypocritical with his strained voice and tented trousers, but Leo was right, they would need to come to the same terms before anything else would happen, “Let me just start by saying that I thought about kissing you for a very long time... I wasn’t sure whether you’d allow me to actually kiss you, though.” Zlatan brushed his thumb over the soft skin of Leo’s cheek, “I want you, Leo, and not just like this. I’d love to take you out on dates and-”

He didn’t get around to finish the explanation that had somehow sounded so much more eloquent when he had put it together in his mind, as Leo pulled him down and into a kiss which told him that Leo felt the same about him. “I want you too,” the younger man whispered into the kiss, putting distance between them before Zlatan had the chance to claim the upper hand again and Zlatan’s heart ached a bit when he was looked at with wide and suddenly incredibly vulnerable eyes that spoke what Leo probably wasn’t able to speak out - uncertainty about Zlatan’s motivation, but most importantly an underlying fear of being hurt the same way that Luis hurt him not all too long. Zlatan quickly laid his arms around Leo to pull him closer and into a hug, holding him as close as he only could’ve done it in the position they were in.

That it pressed their clothed groins together, he tried to ignore. “I promise that I’ll be honest with you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into Leo’s hair, “I want you, all of you and only you, baby. I’ve known you for so long... why would I ever do something that could cause me to lose you?”

Leo wriggled around a bit as if to get more comfortable in the bear hug Zlatan had him in, but neither of them managed to keep the moans down that broke free when it did nothing but rub their crotches against each other. “You can have me,” the younger man whispered back with an equally low voice, his fingers digging onto the broad muscles of Zlatan’s shoulders, “all of me, Zlatan,” until there suddenly was a hand in the tight space between their bodies, giving Zlatan’s throbbing cock a rather rough squeeze through the fabric of the suit pants. “I really want you too, I-I thought about it a lot but I didn’t know how to-”

That time, it was Zlatan who cut Leo off before the younger man had the chance to lose himself in a mess of stuttered explainations which weren’t needed in that moment, loosening the embrace just enough to be able to duck hos head and capture Leo’s lips in a kiss that got more heated after the first brush of their tongues together and even with his mind no longer working rationally he couldn’t have misinterpreted the way that Leo was rutting against him. He brought both of his hands to Leo’s slim waist at that, drawing him closer and inconspicuously trying to match the movements of his hips to Leo’s while he more or less ravaged the younger man’s mouth once he was certain that he would be allowed to do just that. Leo’s open submission, as subtile as it was in that moment, was already enough to make Zlatan’s head spin and his cock throb from all the possibilities it could possibly bring for him.

He earned himself a whimper that blended borders with a moan from Leo when he caught the younger man’s bottom lip between his teeth and kept it there, holding Leo’s hips still at the same time. Zlatan wanted to test whether he was reading all of it right, thus giving Leo a chance to express that he wasn’t happy with how their dynamics had since fallen into place, and when no protest other than an impatient whine followed, Zlatan allowed himself to smirk against Leo’s lips before he wrappen an arm around the smaller man’s waist and stepped back from the counter, carrying him as if he weighted close to nothing. Leo, who already had his ankles crossed behind Zlatan’s back when they had made out, gasped and threw his arms around the taller man’s neck in return as if he feared that he was about to fall before he kissed Zlatan back, a lot more clumsily and sloppily than their kisses had been a few mere seconds ago and their mouths didn’t really part as Zlatan tried to bring them into the bedroom upstairs without stumbling and falling on the flight of stairs.

It must’ve been instinctively, the way his feet managed to not get caught on the steps or walk into any of the side tables, plants or chest of drawers and Zlatan swallowed the giggle that escaped Leo when he threw the bedroom door open with his free arm and set the Argentine down onto his own feet to be able to kiss him deeper, not minding that he almost had to crouch down and pick Leo up in order to make it work despite their height differences. He never would’ve dared to dream that he would get so far that evening, and he wanted to relish every second of it because even if Leo would still be up to _really_ try it with him once his mind would no longer be clouded by arousal, if he’d still agree to date him and become his boyfriend, their relationship would still be a long-distance one and they would be forced to spend most of their time separated by hundreds of kilometers.

Zlatan moaned, deep and hoarsely, when Leo groped at the tent in his trousers and massahed his erection while he kissed Zlatan back with the same vigiour and just as submissive as before. Fuck. This was going so much better and so, so much further than Zlatan had thought it could. The younger man squeezed his cock a bit harder, “Can I suck you off?” _Fuck_.

Instead of answering verbally, Zlatan grabbed Leo’s hand and gracelessly hurriedly crossed the room to sit down on the king-sized bed, eliciting another high-pitched giggle from Leo. He pulled the smaller man between his spread legs, not to bring him to his knees with force, but to kiss him again and he would’ve done nothing other than that for a little while longer, as they were in no real hurry, if it wouldn’t have been for Leo’s own initiative. The younger man dragged the kiss out before he pulled back, sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and slowly sank down onto his knees without breaking eye contact with Zlatan, who was almost dumbstruck with surprise at the change in Leo’s behaviour. His cheeks were glowing with a bright shade of red, though other than before, it wasn’t due to embarrasment or shyness but to his arousal instead and Zlatan couldn’t do but groan when Leo settled in between his spread legs and wriggled around as if trying to get comfortable.

He slotted a hand into Leo’s hair at that, allowing the younger man to decide the pace this was happening at in order to not make him uncomfortable. “Leo,” he moaned, “fuck, baby...” The way Leo giggled made Zlatan’s cock twitch and he kept his hand in Leo’s hair while the fly of his trousers was opened with deft fingers and the younger man slipped a hand under the waistband, causing Zlatan’s hips to buck at the sudden touch on his cock. He hastedly tugged his own pants down with his free hand to give Leo a better access, who moaned as well when he pulled Zlatan’s cock free from where it had been resitricted in a pair of black boxer shorts.

What Leo said next caused the tension in the older man’s lower stomach to intensify, so much that he almost could’ve come right there and then, “ _Fuck_ , it’s so big, Papi.” Leo didn’t give him enough time to come up with something to say, instead shuffled closer on his knees, adjusted the hold he had on the base of Zlatan’s cock and kept his gaze casted upwards as he pressed the flat of his tongue against the underside of the cock, licking a long stripe from its base up to the flushed head. “It’s so _big_ ,” Leo repeated with something akin to awe. He licked his lips to wet them before he kissed the tip of the older man’s cock, keeping it pressed against his lips as he teased the slit with experienced nonchalance and it was then that Zlatan caught himself, drawing a gasp out of Leo by gathering a proper fistful od his hair and roughly tilting his head back.

The fact that Leo’s pupils visibly dilated reassured him that what he was doing wasn’t anything other than consensual. “You think it’s big, hm?” The younger man nodded as much as Zlatan’s hold on his hair allowed him to and Zlatan smirked, pressing the pad of his thumb against Leo’s slightly parted lips. He basked in the way that Leo opened them further to flick his tongue against it. “Let me tell you something, baby,” he said, and the shudder that rocked through Leo’s body at the baritone hint of his voice only made him smirk wider, “if you suck my dick good I’ll fuck you even better.” Leo whimpered and tried to lean over to get his mouth on the older man’s cock again, but Zlatan simply responded by tilting Leo’s head back further, slipping his thumb into Leo’s mouth and pressing down onto his tongue. If someone would’ve told him that Leo had such a side to him, Zlatan most definitely wouldn’t have believed him because in his eyes, and until that evening, the Argentine had been the epitome of innocence and shyness and the new side he was currently getting to explore made him fear an eventual rejection by the end of this even more.

“Papi,” Leo whined, his speech impaired by the digit in his mouth and Zlatan growled as he pulled his thumb free, loosening his hold on Leo’s hair enough to allow him to move.

“That’s right baby,” he chuckled, “show Papi what that pretty little throat of yours can take.”

It would’ve been a lie if Zlatan would’ve said that he had any idea about how rough Leo actually liked things to be, but given that he had called him Papi practically right off the start, blushed at being treated rougly and whimpered at the slightest bit of praise made him hopeful that there would be many more matches regarding their preferences. The younger man hummed and kissed the flushed head of Zlatan’s cock before he closed his lips around it and sucked hard, slowly increasing the pace with which he was bobbing his head to take in centimetre after centimetre of the impressive length. He fondled the part that he didn’t quite manage to take in yet with deft fingers, his jaw hanging slack and his eyes having fluttered close in obvious bliss.

“That’s it baby,” Zlatan purred, waiting until a good two-third of his cock had disappeared between spit-slick lips before he had allowed his hips to snack up and push his length down the back of Leo’s throat, making him choke. When Leo neither glared at him nor pulled off abruptly and merely whimpered instead, Zlatan tightened his hold on the fistfull of hair anew and started to fuck into Leo’s mouth, watching closely for any signs that might tell him to stop. He wanted this to be fun for the both of them, after all.

Leo, however, only kept his jaw perfectly slack and his eyes closed while Zlatan guided his head up and down, only tapping the insides of Zlatan’s thigh when he needed to pull off in order to catch his breath. The younger man did so with a strangled moan, licking at the threads of spit that hung between his lips and Zlatan’s cock, and Zlatan was sure that he had never seen anything as beautiful as Leo looking up at him with dazed, tear-filled but blissful eyes when they haven’t even properly landed in bed yet. He knew that he wouldn’t last for much longer, given how aroused he has been, and he winked down at the kneeling man before he, a bit more gently, guided Leo’s head down and his cock into Leo’s mouth again, who immediately took him in.

As he had expected it, the repeated trip down Leo’s throat brought him to the peak of his orgasm and flung him over the edge sooner than he would’ve liked it. Zlatan came with a cut-off moan, his eyes falling shut when Leo continued sucking, swallowing and fondling while he spilled his release inside of him. “Fuck,” Zlatan grunted once he regained control over his senses, opening his eyes just in time to watch his softening cock slip out from between Leo’s and not caring that he would inevitably taste nothing but himself, he leaned down to kiss Leo, all open-mouthed and sloppily.

The few seconds that it took for Leo to clamber back onto his feet and for Zlatan to stand up as not all so steady legs would’ve been awkward for the both of them it they wouldn’t have been so lost in the heat of the moment, if they wouldn’t have been tugging at their clothes as if there wasn’t anything more urgent than their need to get each other naked. Zlatan grunted in annoyance when he failed to open the ridiculously tiny buttons of Leo’s dress shirt after he had already pulled his own tie and shirt off, his fingers simply being too big and too unsteady to get a hold of them, and Leo let out a small sound of protest as he began to impatiently tug at the shirt instead, “Hey, don’t ruin my-”

A couple of buttons went flying, landing on the floor, before Leo even finished speaking and Zlatan hummed in appreciation, as he then was able to pull it over Leo’s head, “I’ll buy you a new one, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re a... _Neanderthal_ ,” the younger man giggled. The laugh got stuck in his throat when his comment earned him a slap to the ass, and Zlatan’s face was nearly split by the smile that grew on it in return as he groped at the cheek he just smacked.

“And you,” he patted Leo’s ass, “need to get out of these pants right now, baby. Come one, get naked.” Zlatan could practically watch the blush from on Leo’s chest and rise up into his face after he had given him another smack and if it wouldn’t have resulted in him ruining the moment, he would’ve celebrated right there and then because God, Leo really was perfect. Even though he just came, Zlatan’s cock already came back to life when he was suddenly gifted with a view of Leo’s naked ass that already was a masterpiece on its own when clad in tight-fitting sports pants. “Fuck, Leo...” he muttered, shimmying out of his suit pants and underwear to kick them aside, leaving them on the floor despite them being Gucci ones.

In that moment, he couldn’t have had eyes for anything other than Leo, who gave him a teasing little grin over his shoulder before he climbed onto the bed. The younger man arched his back in a way that was anything but necessary and even gave his hips a little shake as he lolled on the king-sized mattress with a casualness that told all about how this wasn’t the first time he tried to play with someone in that manner. It made Zlatan’s blood boil with both excitement and unjustified jealously and he told himself that he would make sure that Leo would always be able to remember his first time with him.

“Look at you,” he muttered, trailing the curve of Leo’s back with one hand after he had gotten onto the bed, though he only stayed there long enough to take the younger man by the waist, pull him up and dragged him backwards until Leo was on his knees by the edge of the mattress with his cheeks pillowed on his crossed arms. “Do you have any lube, baby?”

“Bedside table,” came Leo’s reply, his voice a bit higher than it usually was, and Zlatan placed his hand in the small of Leo’s back for a second before he stepped away and moved around the bed to get to said bedside table, where he only had to open the top drawer to spot the yet unopened bottle of lube. The possibility that Leo had prepared for this made him smirk. With the lube in hand, Zlatan rounded the bed yet again, getting a glorious view of Leo’s body as he did so and he gave his cock a few lazy strokes, not bothering to suppress the hoarse moan that build up in his throat. He laughed at the way that Leo’s eyes flew open and the younger man nearly gave himself whiplash just to get a look of him.

“Patience baby, patience,” he purred, smiling to himself as he gave an appreciating stroke down Leo’s back, starting from the younger man’s nape and splaying his fingers as he reached his upturned backside, giving one of Leo’s cheeks a rather rough squeeze before he used his thumb to pull the cheek aside and catch the first proper glance at his hole. Zlatan yet needed to fully realise that they were really there in Leo’s bedroom, that Leo was really arching his back a bit more and that they were really about to fuck. Leo groaned when Zlatan brushed the pad of his thumb over his puckered hole, the dry friction enough to make it twitch in anticipation, and while Zlatan never would’ve started anything without lube, he still allowed himself to give in to the temptation and pressed his thumb against the twitching muscle just to hear Leo whimper louder and watch him arrch back into the touch.

He pulled his hand back rather abruptly, so as if he had been burned, and gave the cheek he had been groping a brisk swat, watching, with fascination, how the flesh rippled and how Leo got right back into position after the force of the smack had caused him to rock forwards, a pink print of Zlatan’s hand forming on otherwise immaculate pale skin. _Fuck_.

Leo giggled as he almost dropped the bottle of lube because he hurried a bit too much to unscrew its lid, though it only turned out to be Zlatan’s turn to laugh next when he gave Leo another smack, placing a second handprint on Leo’s left cheek to match the one on the right, “Are you sure that you want to be a brat with me, baby?”

“Papi,” Leo gasped, turning his face into the crook of his arm to muffle a moan.

“Yes?” Leo muttered something under his breath and shifted around, parting his legs wider. “Oh, so you _want_ me to be rough with you? To treat you like a naughty little brat?” The younger man nodded, and Zlatan felt lightheaded. He couldn’t have imagined anything better, not even in his wildest dreams. Leo was definitely a match for his kinks. “An answer, baby.”

Leo whimpered, “Yes Papi,” and looked back at Zlatan with wide, doe-like eyes to watch how the older man coated three fingers of his right hand with a generous amount of lube, “I want that, please, I-I want that.”

Zlatan hummed, carelessly throwing the then closed bottle of lube onto the bed beside Leo and using the thumb and middle finger of his clean hand to spread the younger man’s cheeks apart. He circled his lubed forefinger over Leo’s hole for a moment before he pushed it in with determined force, being as rough as Leo wanted him to be. Zlatan still granted Leo a chance to get used to the penetrative feeling first, of course, as he wanted to be rough but not cause any serious pain or discomfort and only pushed a second finger in after he had felt Leo’s muscle relaxing around the first digit. “That’s it, baby,” he drawled out as he wriggled his fingers around to find the perfect angle and started to scissor them, eager to get Leo loose enough for his cock and effortlessly eliciting a whine from the younger man.

He placed his free hand in the small of Leo’s back, both to get him to arch his back more and to prevent him from fucking himself on his fingers, thus showing the other that it was very much him who had the upper hand over the situation. Not that it could’ve been any different. Leo let out a string of moans while he was fingered open; he tried to silence his moans in the bedspread and had his hands threaded into his hair, holding onto it as if he was searching for purchase.

Seeing how a simple fingering was already affecting Leo and that the younger man was almost desperately trying to not let him see how much it was really affecting him, Zlatan decided to dare and take it a step further just to try how far he would be allowed to go. He knew that they’d have to talk about this later, but for the moment, Leo’s moans and his little whimpers of _Papi please_ were consensual enough for Zlatan and so he pulled his fingers out of the younger man without any advance notice. That it elicited a sound of protest from Leo was no surprise, though Zlatan had moved away and had picked his discarded tie up from the floor before the younger man had managed to plant his palms on the bed and push himself up onto less than steady arms, “Zlatan, what are you - what are you doing?”

Settling back in between Leo’s legs that hung protruded from the bed, Zlatan held up the loose black tie, “I was going to tie you up, baby.”

There was a long moment of silence that followed while he waited for a response from Leo and Leo’s eyes wandered back and forth between Zlatan’s face and the piece of fabric that was dangling from his hand, and just as Zlatan was about to remind Leo that he doesn’t have to agree to something he’s not comfortable with, the red blotches on Leo’s face turned a shade darker and the younger man dropped back down onto the mattress with a wanton little moan.

Zlatan grinned from ear to ear, once again not quite able to believe his luck, and patted Leo’s right backside cheek to get his attention, leaving a bit of lube behind, “Give me your hands, baby.” When Leo didn’t react to commant and only mewled into the bedspread, Zlatan gave him a harder smack without thinking about it beforehand, the sound of skin hitting skin resounding loudly through the bedroom, “Now.” He froze, halfheartedly expecting Leo to cry out in a bad way, but all the Argentine did was whimper and reach back with both hands to offer them to Zlatan, who did a quick job with wrapping the tie around his wrists. Zlatan hummed as he slipped a finger underneath the fabric to make sure that he hadn’t accidentally tied it too tightly. “So beautiful,” he whispered, running both of his hands over Leo’s flanks and resting them on the younger man’s slim waist for a pause before he moved them to his plump backside to caress the slightly reddened cheeks.

Leo’s hips gave an unexpected twitch when Zlatan traced the red outline of his hand on the pale skin and Zlatan didn’t need to reach around to know that Leo’s cock was as flagged as his own. He let out a breathy moan as he picked up the lube again, drippled a generous bit of it into the crease of Leo’s ass and slipped two fingers into him again, that time of his left hand so that his right one could continue groping. “You like this, don’t you?” he asked, squeezing the plump cheek before he cocked his hand back to spank Leo again, pressing his fingers down onto the younger man’s prostate at the same time.

“Fuck!” Leo gasped, giving a weak attempt to free his hands from where they were bound. His voice hitched with a moan, “Yesyes _yes_ , Papi _please-_ ”

Zlatan barked a laugh, and brought his hand down with even more vigour. “Well aren’t you something,” he said, his left hand not faltering in its rhythm of fucking Leo while his right placed smacks on the ass that was offered to him. Zlatan alternated between the cheeks, aiming his hand at the fleshier parts of Leo’s ass, since he had somewhat of a plan in mind and thus didn’t want Leo to become too sore too quickly. The sight of Leo’s pale, plump ass rippling from the strength behind the smacks and turning red rather quickly was nothing short to mesmerising; to Zlatan, Leo’s ass was already a masterpiece on its own but getting to see it mottled with his handprints made it at least a dozen times better. If that was even possible, given that it was Leo. The little moans, whimpers and gasps of _Papi_ , _Papi pleas_ e and _fuck_ didn’t leave him unaffected either, though Zlatan didn’t consider touching his own cock, instead preferring to keep his hands on and in Leo. How could he possibly have pulled his hands off when Leo had since begun to thrust back against both Zlatan’s fingers and the smacks that continued to rain down onto his upturned backside.

It went on like that until Zlatan noticed how the younger man’s body clenched around him and Leo’s thighs started to shake and he pulled his fingers out with a squelch, reaching around to enclose Leo’s cock at its base. “Don’t think that I’ll let you come just yet,” he said, underliningwhat he stated with a stinging swat to the sensitive inside of Leo’s thigh and thus causing the younger man to cry out for the first time. Zlatan put one knee onto the bed to be able to lean over and speak the next few words right into Leo’s ear, “Only good boys get to come like this, _you_ ,” he gave Leo’s throbbing cock a squeeze, “will come on my dick or not at all.” With his free hand, he blindly felt at the handprint that was forming on Leo’s thigh and his cock twitched when Leo suddenly turned his head to look at him.

God, what a sight he was. With his lips still swollen from the blowjob, his cheeks burning bright read and tear-filled eyes Leo easily could’ve claimed the role of Adonis for himself - and Zlatan was lost in him. Even though the positions they were in were less than ideal for it, he still kissed Leo and Leo kissed him back, opening his mouth for Zlatan’s tongue to claim it.

“I’ll fuck you so good,” he promised, making the younger man gasp as he squeezed his cock once more before he pulled his hand back and got off the bed again, “ _so good_ , baby.”

He splayed his fingers over Leo’s then bright red ass cheeks, squeezing the burning flesh for the sole reason of eliciting a whimper from Leo, since having decided that he couldn’t give him much more without causing serious bruising which wasn’t something he’d do without talking about it first. One of his thumbs dipped into the crease of Leo’s ass, “Do you want me to fuck you like this?” Leo’s breath hitched and he shook his head, just once, as he squirmed around, and Zlatan guessed that the younger man’s position with his wrist tied behind his back and his cheek pressed into the mattress had since stopped being comfortable for him. Zlatan smiled, “Okay baby, wait a moment,” flung the bottle of lube into the direction of the headboard where it landed on the stack of decorative pillows before he himself climbed onto the bed, pulling Leo along with him much more gently than he had manhandled him earlier, as he didn’t want to injure him. “How do you want it, baby?”

He brushed his clean thumb over the younger man’s swollen bottom lip while he waited for an answer, watching how Leo, obviously not having expected being given the chance to decide, needed a moment to come up with an answer. “I, uhm, maybe-maybe like this?” Leo eventually whispered, not quite meeting Zlatan’s gaze before he turned over onto his stomach, pulled one knee up and looked up at the older man through dark and wet eyelashes.

Zlatan chuckled, winked at Leo and shifted onto all fours to tower over Leo, nuzzling his face into the crook of Leo’s neck to kiss him there. “I can do that,” he purred, alternately massaging the cheeks that were covered in the imprints of his hand and slipping his fingers between them to tease Leo’s hole. Zlatan tugged at the tie that immobilised Leo’s arms, “Do you want me to take it off?”

“No Papi,” the younger man replied with a slight hitch in his breathing and Zlatan intertwined his fingers with Leo’s, for the first time and just for a moment, before he leaned over to retrieve the lube.

He took Leo’s answer as a hint to resume the scene in the same way as before the short break and pulled his fingers free to give Leo’s ass a brisk swat, moving back onto his knees to lube his cock. Zlatan groaned at how sensitive it was due to the lack of attention it had gotten until then. Leo sniffled and let out a giggle as he gave his reddened ass a little shake, humming when the Zlatan grunted and smacked him again, “What did I tell you about being patient, _baby?_ ”

As the huff the action was accompanied by came out as rather loud, Zlatan was able to hear Leo rolling his eyes, “Don’t be mean, Pa-”

He smacked him twice, once onto each cheek, and didn’t bother to suppress the growl as he shuffled a bit closer and roughly spread Leo’s cheeks apart to reveal his slick hole, “And you need to stop being such a brat of I won’t let you come at all.”

“ _Nooo_ Papi,” the younger man whined, arching his back and pressing his ass into Zlatan’s touch and Zlatan wondered how Leo fit into the role of a brat so perfectly.

He snorted, shook his head and aligned the head of his cock with Leo’s opening, “Hush.” Leo actually fell quiet when Zlatan started to push into him and he chuckled, keeping one hand on the base of his cock as he changed his position so that his body was covering and effortlessly dwarfing Leo’s. He could get used to this, he definitely could get used to this.

“ _Fu-uck_.” Leo gasped once Zlatan bottomed out and pressed his pelvis against his sore ass, “You’re so fucking big Papi, _fuck_.”

Humming, Zlatan circled his hips without pulling out. He almost needed to fold in hald to be able to place a kiss on Leo’s shoulder while he pulled out slowly inch after slow inch until only the top of his cock remained past the tight ring of muscles and he snapped his hips in a way that was unexpected for Leo, pushing the entire length back into the younger man at once and drawing out a long, high-pitched whine from him. Shifting his weight so that he was balancing it on his left arm, Zlatan brought his right hand to Leo’s backside to feel where their bodies were connected, stroking the skin that was stretched out around his cock. “Look at you,” he muttered, sucking a bruise onto the spot on Leo’s shoulder he had just kissed. “Baby, it’s like you were made to take my dick.”

It didn’t take him long to fall into a rhythm that was fitting for the both of them. He fucked the younger man in the same manner that he fingered him, rough and ruthless to the right extend, and the best thing about it all was that Leo let him do it, that he only spread his legs apart and arched up to meet Zlatan’s hard thrusts. It would’ve been a lie if Zlatan would’ve claimed that he wasn’t absolutely basking in the sound of Leo’s wantin moans and the way his cock was sliding into the younger man with only little resistance, the way Leo welcomed him with ease and so as if he had waited for him for a long time. Zlatan’s movements ended up becoming erratic rather quickly, which was no real surprise, considering that he had come not all to long ago, and he buried his face in Leo’s hair as he fucked into him with as much vigour as he could’ve mustered, forcing Leo into the mattress every time he drove the length of his cock into him.

“Zla-atan,” Leo choked out, and Zlatan didn’t miss how his thighs started to tremble for the second time this evening.

“I got you,” he muttered into Leo’s hair, grabbing the nearest one of Leo’s thighs with his free hand and rolling his pelvis against the younger man’s ass at the same time, thus putting pressure on his prostate and making him whimper loud enough for Zlatan to be glad that Leo didn’t have any immediate neighbours. “I got you baby, I got you.”

“Papi-”

Deciding to be more lenient than he had told Leo he would be, he sneaked a hand under Leo’s body to take his cock into his hand, giving it a rough tug, “You can come baby, I got you.” Zlatan barely finished speaking before a moan got caught in the younger man’s throat, his muscles clenched around Zlatan’s cock and a tremble moved through his body as he came, dropping his head onto the bed with a sob. The older man straightened at that, stemming his hands into the mattress and using Leo’s bliss to chase after his own orgasm rather ruthlessly and while he expected his orgasm, it still hit him with all of its force and if it wouldn’t have been fore the certainty that his weight would’ve crushed Leo, he would’ve collapsed on top of the younger man. He pulled his softening cock out of Leo instead, groaning as he plopped down onto his back and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to catch his breath and stop his head from spinning.

“Zlatan?” In a stark contrast to a few minutes ago, Leo’s voice was barely raised above a whisper, “Could you, uhm, my hands?”

Zlatan shot up into a sitting position, “Shit, I’m sorry,” and loosened the restrains around Leo’s wrists with a few quick tugs, watching how the Argentine groaned as he rolled his wrists before he slowly brought his arms back to his front. “Are you... Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah,” Leo laughed, still breathing heavily, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Zlatan nodded, even though Leo had his eyes closed again, and lay back down to stare at the ceiling. Neither of them spoke for a while. Their breathing became normal again and Zlatan noticed how Leo shifted around on the bed, probably to no longer lie on any of the wet spots, but neither of them spoke and he failed to ignore the strange feeling of tightness in his chest. “Zlatan?”

He didn’t quite flinch when Leo decided to break the silence between them, but he did blink hard and only turned his head after taking a second or two to compose himself, “Yeah?”

Leo was still lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, and there was something shining in his eyes that made Zlatan’s heart heavy. “Did you... I mean, did you really mean what you said earlier? That you... want me?”

The younger man trailed off, biting at his bottom lip and looking down at his hands, and Zlatan felt his eyes widen. “I meant it,” he said, “and I still mean it.” Leo nodded, though the way the crease between his eyebrows didn’t disappear just yet told Zlatan that what he had said wasn’t taken seriously. Rather than trying to argue verbally, however, he merely brought up an arm, put his hand into the back of Leo’s neck and pulled him down until his head was pillowed on Zlatan’s chest and he was able to wrap his arms around him and hug him close. “Of course I mean it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into Leo’s sweaty hair, “I’d love to be your boyfriend, Leo. I’d love to take you out on dates and show you off as mine. Fuck, I’d love to spend all my free days with you... if that’s what you want, too.” 

Leo, who had since absentmindedly begun to trace the tattoo over Zlatan’s nipple with a languid finger, nodded and nestled further against Zlatan’s chest. “Why wouldn’t I want that,” he answered, and Zlatan didn’t comment on how unsteady his voice was, “I’d love it.”

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> LMAO I can't believe I actually put together 10k of this mess, sorry y'all idk what happened 😭😂


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